


Pour It Open

by tigerlady (shetiger)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Culture, Bonding, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Gen, Grief, Tea, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/pseuds/tigerlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teyla shares an Athosian ritual with the team after John returns from Earth. (Set post Outcast.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pour It Open

Sheppard was on the exact balcony McKay said he'd be, elbows braced straight like he was trying to push the railing off the decking, squinting against the setting sun, staring it down into the sea. He looked a lot like he had at his father's place, contained and stiff and waiting for attackers nobody but he knew were coming.

Ronon sighed.

"How'd you find me?" Sheppard turned enough that he'd have Ronon in his peripheral vision, so Ronon lifted one shoulder, shrugging. Sheppard shook his head. "Let me guess. Once I spend seven years on the run from the Wraith, I won't need to ask."

"Something like that," Ronon said. Wasn't his fault if Sheppard assumed what he wanted to assume. He grabbed hold of the railing next to Sheppard's hands, copying his posture. The view was nice, Atlantis spread out below, the shine of its metal still dull next to the shimmer of the ocean, but it wasn't any better than the view from the hundreds of the city's other balconies. No reason for Sheppard to pick this particular balcony, other than it was about as far from a transporter as you could get and still be in the main section of the city. It was a place good for hiding out and licking wounds, although Ronon wasn't much for either anymore.

Ronon pushed away from the railing, then turned so he could rest his hips against it. So he could watch Sheppard's face. "Teyla wants to see you."

One eyebrow lifted. "She does." He said it flat, but it sounded like a question anyway. One that said Sheppard couldn't imagine anyone wanting to see him right now. Ronon knew he was off-duty, but it still struck him weird that Sheppard wasn't wearing his radio. Especially since he was back in uniform. Maybe he'd run out of casual clothes, wearing them all on Earth, but Ronon didn't think that was it.

"Guess you don't want to see her."

"What?" That finally got Sheppard to look away from the sea. "No, it's not that. Do you know what she wants?"

Ronon shrugged. He wasn't about to say 'she wants you to share your grief with us so that you can start to heal,' but it wouldn't get them anywhere with Sheppard to try to lead him into this blind. Not anywhere good, anyway. "She wants to do something with all of us. Some kind of tea ceremony." Sheppard wrinkled his nose, like he was smelling bad perfume and cleaning wax all over again, so Ronon added, "I think she's been missing her people a lot."

"Damn." Sheppard sighed. He was turned towards the city now, facing the red-gold spire that housed the staircase that would take them back to the transporter, but his eyes were still unfocused. Or not unfocused; focused inward rather than on some non-existent distance, trying to find a way to fix the situation. Like he always did. "How's she been holding up?"

"She's Teyla." Ronon didn't know how to put it better than that. Teyla was Teyla, always. Bright and beautiful and stronger than anyone he knew, even when she ached as deep as the water around them. Words like that always got stuck in his chest, though, so he never tried to say them. Didn't matter, 'cause Sheppard's face softened with an almost smile, and whatever his eyes were seeing finally met up with the now.

"Yeah." He slapped Ronon on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go see what she wants."

Teyla opened her door as soon as they sounded the chime. Whether she was there through her own intuition or as a result of McKay's detector, he didn't know. One was as likely as the other, and the result was the same either way, Teyla's smile and extended hands drawing them into her quarters before Sheppard could have second thoughts.

"Thank you for coming," she said. Ronon watched the way she set her hands in just the right spot on Sheppard's shoulders, the way she positioned herself just the right distance from his feet, so that Sheppard dipped his head towards hers without hesitation. Those moves were just as smooth and well-practiced as any of her fighting techniques, but Ronon had a harder time spotting them. When they were directed his way, anyway, which was why he was so fascinated by the way she handled Sheppard.

"How are you doing?" Sheppard asked.

"Well enough. There have been no new leads, but I still have hope."

"Good." Sheppard looked down, towards her swollen belly, and the fingers of his right hand spread and curled before he clasped his wrist behind his back. "And the kiddo?"

Worries about her people couldn't diminish Teyla's joy about her child, if the radiance of her smile was anything to go by. "He is fine." She curled her hand around Sheppard's forearm and led him towards the small sofa on the far side of the room. "He is sleeping now, but if he stirs later, I will let you feel for yourself."

"That sounds great." Sheppard smiled, then started to ease back against the cushions. He froze for half a second as he looked away from Teyla for the first time since they arrived. "Hey, McKay," he said, settling the rest of the way into his seat.

"Hey." McKay held up his hand, but he didn't say anything else. So quiet Ronon might have assumed he wasn't in the room, too.

"So Ronon said something about tea?"

Teyla looked up, eyebrow raised; Ronon lifted a shoulder back at her. He wasn't going to take responsibility for explaining her rituals for her. She rolled her eyes at him, letting the expression roll on out through her neck until she was facing Sheppard again with a soft smile. "I wish to share one of the oldest rituals of Athos." Teyla reached out, towards Sheppard's right hand, but instead of taking it, she set her hand on the sofa next to his. "After a loved one passes, we drink a bitter tea to remind ourselves that grief is but a passing thing in comparison to all the time we shared together."

"Ah." Sheppard shifted, widening his legs and leaning forward, reading himself to stand. "You know, I appreciate the thought, but it's not really necessary. I'm okay."

"I know that you think that is true," she said, and then she did touch him, just two fingers spreading wide so that they bridged over his skin. "But it is necessary to me, because you are important to me. All of you are."

Sheppard drew a breath, but he didn't say anything. McKay looked half-pleased and half like he was going to vomit up his lunch.

"I know that such things are difficult for you," Teyla continued. "But do not try to pretend that we are blind to your feelings, John. It is not fair to us."

Sheppard looked away from her. His gaze slid across Teyla's quarters, over the long silky curtains and across the rug-softened floor, somehow completely skipping the chair where McKay sat clutching one of Teyla's tasseled pillows, ran up over the candle-laden coffee table and towards the door--but Ronon's eyes were in the way. Ronon nodded slowly, twice--and that seemed to be enough. Sheppard squared his shoulders, and then he faced Teyla again, a half-smile twitching out of hiding.

"Okay," he said. "Tea sounds good."

"Right." McKay stood straight up, letting the pillow thud to the floor. "I'll be right back."

"Rodney?"

McKay froze, index fingers of both hands directed at Teyla's kitchenette. "I was just going to get it. Teyla said her wrists have been bothering her, you see, and since I know the ceremony anyway..." And then he darted away, more tor-rabbit nimble than Ronon had ever seen him in the field.

"You do not mind, do you, John?" Teyla asked quietly. "I would do it, but my wrists have indeed become uncertain lately, and I do not wish to risk spilling the tea."

"Hey, it's not a problem." Sheppard was the one who reached out this time, patting her hand. Ronon shook his head; he was pretty sure that Teyla's wrists weren't the trickiest part of her. Especially since he'd watched her race through a modified rod routine this morning.

"So, I'll just start then," McKay said. He'd returned with a thin wooden tray that held an unglazed clay teapot and four small handleless cups. Traken work, by the look of it, not too old, but old enough to be darkened from use. Ronon wondered if she'd traded for it after coming to Atlantis, or if it had somehow survived the burning of Athos.

McKay set the tray down in front Sheppard. He picked up the teapot by its handle and tipped a shaky drop into the cup closest to Sheppard. Ronon thought maybe Teyla and her tricky wrists would have been better for this, whatever her motives, but then McKay cleared his throat, drawing Ronon's attention away from his hands.

"The memory of your father passing is but a single drop amongst a lifetime of memories," McKay said. He tipped the pot again, this time sending a steady stream of dark tea into the cup. "His death is a part of who he is to you now, but only a small part. You hold the rest of him inside you, like the warmth of this tea."

Sheppard stared down at the teacup like he was convinced his dead father was going to rise up out of it and start spouting off his opinion of the whole ceremony. McKay didn't notice or didn't care; he moved on without hesitation, filling the next two cups.

"We have all lost loved ones, and we shall lose again, for it is the cycle of life. But we will always remember and hold them dear in our hearts." McKay cleared his throat again before he poured the final cup. "May we drink of this tea and remember that the bitterness of grief is a passing thing."

He set the pot down, then picked up the first cup and offered it to Sheppard. It trembled between their hands before Sheppard got it in a good grip. McKay blew out a breath, and then picked up a second cup. Ronon didn't hesitate when he held it out.

"You did well," Teyla murmured as McKay passed her the third.

"Yes, well," he said, but apparently even McKay couldn't brag while he was in the middle of a death ritual. He lifted his own cup, then paused, looking at Sheppard's quiet hands. "What are you waiting for? Drink up."

Ronon snorted. He took a swallow--and man, they hadn't been kidding about the bitter part. The tea tasted worse than some of the swamp water he'd had to drink over the years, and it was nearly as silty. He threw his head back and tossed down the rest like a rusty-still shot, hoping the stuff wouldn't turn on his gut later. He shook his head to chase away the taste, his dreads smacking the side of his face like a wet dog's ears. Didn't help much, but at least his cheeks didn't feel like they were inside out anymore. McKay looked like he felt the same way, lips puckered up tight as he lowered his cup after copying Ronon's slug-it-down method.

Teyla, though, was serenely sipping at the tea, looking completely unaffected by the taste. Between that and her cooking, he seriously wondered if she had any sense of taste at all. Concern for a teammate or not, this was the last time Ronon was letting her talk him into some crazy Athosian ritual. They'd do it the Satedan way from now on.

"Is that it?" Sheppard asked quietly. He held his cup between his thumb and forefinger, wrist cocked carefully as he brought it up for a small sip. He lowered it again without expression, as unruffled as Teyla by the taste. "I mean, it was a nice ceremony and all, I just figured there'd be more."

Teyla laughed gently. "It is one of the shorter formal ceremonies we have, yes. But it is customary to sit and talk afterwards, as we sip the tea, and to share the memories of those we have lost." She looked down at the cup in her hands, smile fading away. "I did this with Elizabeth after Carson's death. I believe it helped her some."

McKay snorted. "Carson would have loved that. Two beautiful women drinking tea and talking about him?"

Teyla smiled at him. "I am glad we did it, then."

McKay clunked his cup down on the table, clumsily enough that Ronon expected it to crack in two. "Did you, ah--" He looked down and started pushing the empty cup closer to the tray with small fingertip nudges. "Did you do this for Elizabeth, too?"

Teyla leaned forward--somewhat awkwardly, her belly big enough now to give her trouble with such movements--and stopped his hand. "I should have shared it with you. I am sorry for not thinking of it."

McKay shook his head. "You know I'm not into this, ah..."

"This gobbledy gook?" Teyla supplied, raising an eyebrow. "I know that you knew Elizabeth longer than I did. Perhaps you could share a memory of her for me?"

Ronon set his tea cup down on the tray, then crossed behind McKay to the kitchenette. He understood what Teyla was trying to do. Appreciated it, especially since she was trying to help Sheppard. But the Satedan way was better. The memories were easier when the words slid out of a bottle, and the next day they either evaporated with the alcohol or went back in with the stopper. Ronon opened Teyla's small refrigerator, but the only drinkables he saw were bottles of juice and milk.

"I didn't even know she liked me," McKay was saying. "But there she was with her stash of hot cocoa and real marshmallows, acting like we were doing something naughty and dangerous. I was so surprised I didn't even hit on her."

Sheppard laughed. Ronon shut the door and looked over at him, surprised.

"Lucky for you," Sheppard said, smiling at McKay. "You wouldn't have gotten anywhere near her marshmallows."

"Well, yes," McKay said. "I know that _now_. But at least she wouldn't have thrown me off the project if I had. Elizabeth was..."

"Yeah," Sheppard said softly. "She reminded me of my mother."

" _Really?_ "

"Yes, Rodney. Really." Sheppard sat forward, elbows resting on his thighs and his teacup dangling between the fingertips of both hands. "My mom and I used to have tea parties in the afternoons while Dave was at school. Just the two of us. Tea, and cookies that the cook made from scratch." He looked over to Teyla. "I wasn't lying that first time. I really do like tea."

"I know." Teyla laid her arm across Sheppard's back, and he seemed to sway into the comfort.

Ronon cleared his throat. "I don't."

Three faces looked over at him, McKay twisting around in his chair to do so. "What do you mean you don't? You don't even know--"

"I don't like tea," Ronon clarified. McKay snapped his mouth shut. "Melina always talked about how good it was to help colds and stuff, but I could never stand it. Tasted like dirty water, no matter what kind she brewed up."

"Melina." Sheppard said each syllable carefully. "Your wife?'

"She wasn't... We weren't married." Ronon turned around and opened the odd Ancestral cabinet in front of him. Teyla had to have some rhus wine stashed somewhere, but he only found a box of shortbread cookies and some more pottery. "We were going to be, at the end of the summer after she finished her rotation in the children's ward."

"She was a doctor?" McKay asked. Slowly, like he was actually curious.

Ronon grabbed the back of his neck with both hands. Talking to Jennifer about Melina had been okay. Maybe even good, letting someone else know about her, about what had happened. But there was so much. Too much life to share in just a few words.

"You don't have to talk about it," Sheppard said. Of course Sheppard, who didn't want to be here in the first place. Ronon dropped his hands, but he couldn't make himself turn around.

"She was a doctor. It was everything to her, helping people. Especially the kids." He shook his head. "Except she wanted to take some time off after we got married, and have a baby of her own."

A baby of **their** own.

He'd held onto the pain of losing Melina so tightly through all those years running, using it to fuel his determination, his fury at the Wraith. It had kept it going when all he'd wanted to do was lie down and die. That pain had been hard to let go of once he was in Atlantis, the tracker gone, but he was learning to do it. Yeah, it hurt, but he knew it was like scarred muscles being forced to stretch so they could be used again.

But he'd pushed those plans down deep. Deep enough that he was surprised how much he could ache for a child that was only a thing of their minds.

Teyla's soft footsteps sounded from behind him, and then her small hand was on his back. "I am so sorry," she said. He could feel the swell of her belly pressing into his hip. Ronon raised his arm and drew her closer to him, and she rested her head against his chest. He wondered if she'd planned for him to do that, and then decided it didn't matter if she had. "I do know that if someday you do become a father, you will be a wonderful one."

Ronon squeezed her close. "Only because I'm going to get lots of practice with this guy."

"I think we're all going to have fun playing uncle," Sheppard said.

"Speak for yourself," McKay muttered, but Ronon knew it was a lie. He'd already walked in on McKay recording lessons for the child a couple times already. "Oh! Not that I'm not happy for you, Teyla."

"I understand what you mean, Rodney." Teyla stepped out from under Ronon's arm, but she took his hand, keeping their connection warm. "Since you have finished your tea, would you like something else? Jarva juice, perhaps?"

Ronon turned around so he could see Sheppard. He didn't look miraculously healed, not like he'd suddenly been made happy and whole through the miracle of Teyla's tea, but he was sitting relaxed on the sofa, one arm loose across the backrest, a soft smile on his face as he watched the two of them. Ronon figured it'd be okay if he swerved away from the Athosian script now. "You got any beer?"

"Ooh, beer?"

Ronon snorted at the way McKay perked up, a cal-vole on the prairie scenting food. Teyla just rolled her eyes. "You must promise not to get so drunk that I will have to call security to roll you out of here."

"I promise," he and McKay said together.

Teyla shook her head, but she couldn't hide her smile. "Then I believe there is still a six-pack left from our last movie night." She opened the refrigerator door. "Right behind the jarva juice."

END


End file.
